


Broken

by BloodyKisses03



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 09:47:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19461460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyKisses03/pseuds/BloodyKisses03
Summary: Alessia Clark.She's a wizard.But she's a muggle-born.Her family think she's a freak. So they treat her like one. They drink, and they hit her. And there's nothing she can do.It's her third year at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, and there's a new teacher.Professor R.J.Lupin.Little does she know, he's a werewolf. He can smell the blood leaking from her cuts, and sense the emptiness in her mind.He's been there before, and is determined to help her.How can she keep a secret from someone who has so much evidence?And what will happen to her if people find out?





	1. One

ONE:

“Hurry up or you’re going to miss the train, you stupid bitch”

The first thing I heard this morning. Pleasant right? No. But this is my life, and by now, I’m used to it. The snide comments and demeaning insults.

Welcome, stay at your own risk.

I’m a Hogwarts student, you see. If I miss the train, there’s a chance I don’t go this year, and well, I need to go. I can’t stay here. I mean, physically, sure. But mentally, I can’t stay within a mile of this place. I’d go nuts. My parents are muggles, they don’t understand how I ended up like the ‘freak’ that I am. They say it was a birth defect, that it was because I’m a mistake. I never knew why they hated me so much until I received my first letter. My Hogwarts acceptance letter.

We weren’t the richest of families to start with. My parents are drunks. Every penny we had went into their addictions. I worked every summer to get money for my textbooks, but it was never enough.

I have a friend at Hogwarts. I never had any until I went there. Her name is Hermione. We met during first year and bonded almost instantly over our love of the taste of chocolate. She is one of the closest people I know, and I’m glad to have her. But even with her, every day is a struggle for me. Especially in the summer. You see, my grades slipped last year. A lot. And this made my parents a considerable amount angrier at me. They hit me a couple of times. A couple of times a day that is. 

That’s why I’m so desperate to escape, because I don’t think I can survive here.

I dragged my feet out of bed, padding my way along the floors, to the bathroom, where I took a quick shower, before dressing myself in a hoodie and some baggy leggings, and grabbing my things. I put my hair up in a simple ponytail and dragged my bags downstairs. My father was waiting at the bottom. He looked me up and down, before sneering and snatching my bags from my hands. The only one left, was my owl. Aerin. I watched as he carelessly threw my things into the car, before yelling at me to get in.

The car journey was silent, the sound of my father’s heavy breathing the only thing I could hear. I could hear the restraints in his lungs, from smoking. They were going to give up soon enough. He recklessly pulled into a space in the parking lot and turned to me with a sinister smile.

“Sweetie, I’m sure you can get your own fat ass onto the train, Now get out.”

Although I was used to it, the tone of voice that he used made hairs stand up on the back of my neck, and tears sting the back of my eyes. I climbed out struggling to carry all my things and made my way into the station. I grabbed a trolley, to put everything in, and made my way to the platform. The wall between 9 and 10. The platform 9 3/4. I took a deep breath and began to run towards it. I never truly got used to the feeling of going through that wall. It still makes me feel nauseous. I passed through it and gave my luggage to the people by the train, before getting on. I still had a small bag with me. It had my uniform in it.

“Alessia! Come over here!” I heard a familiar voice call. I spun around on my hell, becoming instantly lightheaded, and ended up face to face with Hermione. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just dizzy. Probably spun around too fast.” I chuckled light-heartedly, though I knew it wasn’t the case. I hadn’t eaten in about three days, and it was beginning to catch up to me.

“Let’s go find Harry and Ron, they’re probably on the train already.”

I’d been friends with Hermione for a while, but Harry and Ron weren’t really my friends. More like people who sat with me because their friend did. They’re friendly, sure, but not my friends. We wouldn’t go into Hogsmeade together, giggling like schoolgirls, or sharing a liquorice twirl between us. 

Soon, we boarded the train, and I began to zone out. I wasn’t listening to the conversations going on around me. I was trying to silence the voices in my head. The ones screaming constantly.

“-Alessia?” I heard Hermione say, but I missed the first part of the question.

“Huh, sorry, I was kinda out of it”

“I asked if you wanted anything from the trolley?”

“Oh, um, I’m okay, but thanks.”

She nodded at me, giving me a ‘We’ll talk later’ kind of look. It worries me, because I can’t tell her about my parents. I’ve always had excuses for things, but I could tell she was getting worried now. Excuses weren’t going to cut it. I felt tears well up in my eyes, and made an excuse to leave, stating that I was going to change into my robes, before exiting the carriage. My breathing became laboured, and was coming out in short puffs, and I had to bite my lip to prevent a sob from escaping. I changed into my robes, and pulled a face wipe out of my bag, to stop it from looking like I had been crying, before returning to the others. 

Only, when I returned, Harry was lying across the seat. Someone was giving him chocolate. They told the others they had to go talk to the driver and made his way out.

“Who was that?” I asked Hermione, and her eyes bored into mine.

“Professor Lupin- “She hastily responded, before her eyebrows furrowed, and she sped up her words as she finished “Have you been crying?”

“I wiped my face with a wipe, had dirt on it, from - uhm- gardening with my mum.”

“Oh okay. “She responded uneasily, and I could tell she didn’t believe me.

Luckily, we reached Hogwarts before she could question me any further. I was gladder than I think I’ve ever been to arrive here, and that’s saying something. I pretty much ran off the train, the fresh air filling my lungs almost instantly. I felt fatigue take over my body, and rushed towards the carriages, that take us from the station to the castle. 

We went into the great hall for a short assembly, and I was joined by Hermione, Ron and Harry. Dumbledore introduced the first years to the castle and greeted Professor Lupin as Defence against the dark arts teacher. The entire time I could feel my eyes becoming heavy, and knew that if I didn’t sleep soon, I’d collapse

We then went back to our dormitories and common rooms for the rest of the day. I went straight to my bed and fell asleep almost instantly.


	2. Two

TWO:  
I was woken by someone shaking me and peeled my eyes open to see Hermione.

“Hey, dinner is starting soon, are you okay? You’ve been asleep all day, and on the train, you’d been crying”

“I wasn’t cry- “

“Don’t bullshit Alessia, I know crying when I see it.”

“I’m just tired and felt really sick. I swear.”

“Fine, but come on, let’s go down”

I reluctantly put on my shoes and made my way to the great hall with Hermione, who soon became engrossed into a conversation with Harry and Ron, so I just played with the food that I’d put onto my plate. I didn’t dare put any in my mouth though. If my mother found out I started pigging out here I’d suffer ten times as worse when I went home next. I felt someone watching me, so I put a piece of fruit into my mouth, so that no one would accuse me of starving myself. Maybe that is what I was doing. Hoping that soon enough, the hunger would take over and I would die. Maybe then I’d be free. Free of the torment from my parents. Free of pretending that I am okay. Free of excuses.

Death can’t come soon enough.

I watched as everyone began to discuss the recent news in the papers. Sirius Black. I felt my pulse speed up as people began to crowd around me, and I couldn’t breathe.

“I-I’m gonna go” I said to Hermione, who began to protest, but before she could, I’d gotten up, and left as fast as I could, without running. I went out to the courtyard and sat on a bench, my head between my knees. I felt bile rise up my throat and regretted the fruit instantly. It hadn’t even been that much, but my body seemed to be rejecting it almost instantly. I began to dry heave, until my gaga reflexes gave out, and I spilled what little contents I had in my stomach onto the grass. The taste wouldn’t leave my mouth, so I rushed up to the dorms, and brushed my teeth, for so long, that it felt like my teeth may begin to bleed.

I climbed into my bed after that. That’s when the tears started. I tried desperately to make no sound, but soon, massive sobs were escaping my mouth, and I had to put a pillow over my face, to cover the sounds. I sobered up shortly, having no energy left within me to cry anymore, and was slowly consumed by darkness.

“Remember Bitch, no one at this fancy fucking wizard school for freaks can know about you. I don’t care how many fucking lies you have to tell them, if anyone finds out about us, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to go back for another year. Do you understand?” He sneered at me, as he held the piece of glass above me.

“Y-Yes” I managed to stutter out, but his eyes turned colder than I had ever seen them, and his hand lowered, the glass piercing my leg. I let out a scream, not caring if anyone heard.

“Remember this next time you think of spilling our little secret” He smirked, before twisting the glass, and walking away.

I couldn’t go to the hospital. They’d see all the old scars, the new bruises. I removed the glass with a pair of tweezers and stitched it myself.

I shot out of my bed, a cold sweat covering me. I could feel the pain in my leg still. But I ignored it. I deserved it, after all, if my own parents couldn’t love me, no one ever would, and deserved all the pain I got. I grabbed my washrag and made my way to the bathrooms. I began to dig through the bag, until I found what I was looking for.

“Jackpot!” I whispered to myself, pulling out the shiny piece of metal. I went into a cubicle and locked the door, Putting the metal to my wrist, a tear escaped my eye. I swiped it across, and more tears began to flow, as the blood mixed with the tears, the salty mixture stinging even more. “You deserve this. All of it”

I continued until there was around ten lines going up my arm, and then I grabbed a wad of tissue, cleaning up what spilled onto the floor. I then cleaned the blade, returning it to my bag, and climbed into the shower, enjoying the soothing sting of hot water meeting wound. 

I washed my hair and body, before climbing out. I wrapped my arm in bandage, and got dressed into my robes, before returning to the common room. No one was in there, so I grabbed my potions book, and began researching the things we needed to know for our lesson. Soon enough, Hermione emerged from our dorm, and sat down next to me.

“You weren’t there this morning. Where were you?”

“I had a nightmare, so I went for an early shower.” I wasn’t lying, but I can’t tell her the whole truth, can I? 

Oh yeah, I woke up from a nightmare with self-esteem smaller than a dust mite, so I decided to cut my wrist to get the pain I deserved.

Not happening. Though I believed it to be true, she wouldn’t understand. And I’m not up for more glass in my leg.

“One day, I’m gonna find out exactly what’s going on in that head of yours. And I’m going to help you.”

“No one can help me Hermione.” I was suddenly engrossed into a page about mandrake root, she went to respond to my comment, but Harry and Ron walked in, thankfully saving me from a conversation I didn’t want to have. One that I can’t have. 

“One second Harry.” I hear, and turn to see Hermione walking towards me, “You, with me. Now!”

I follow after her, panicking. I don’t have any way of getting out of this one.

“Alessia, I have known you three years. You are funny, love chocolate, and most of all, haven’t been this distant before. I am worried about you” 

“Please don’t make me do this. I can’t do this. I can’t tell anyone. No one. Not even you.” I stopped talking, letting my hands run through my hair, gripping onto it. The room started spinning and I had to sit down. I couldn’t breathe, and felt a hand on my shoulder, but the fear was building up, and I shook off her hand, and ran out of the room. Down to the courtyard, where I had been the night before. I collapsed to the floor beside a tree, desperately trying to find a pulse on my body. I eventually found one on my neck and began to calm my breathing to the beat of my heart. It was a technique I discovered years ago, before I started at Hogwarts.

Once I had calmed my breathing, I heard students on their way to the great hall, but figured no one would notice me missing, so went back to the common room. It was empty, so I grabbed my books, and headed towards my first class. I figured I would wait outside until the other students arrived. I sat on the floor, reading the defence against the dark arts textbook I had bought with the very last of the money I owned. I still don’t know how to explain to the teachers why I don’t have certain textbooks. But they’re expensive, even the shitty second-hand ones I have.

Students began flocking my way, so I packed up my book, and made my way into the classroom, where I saw Professor Lupin, talking to a small group of students that had all gathered at the front.

I felt a hand touch my shoulder, and instinctively freeze, but soon hear something that made my tense muscles relax.

“I’m sorry about this morning. Talk to me when you’re ready, okay?” Hermione muttered in my ear, so that only I could hear it.

“Okay”


	3. Three

THREE:  
During the lesson, we were learning about bogarts, I was in the queue behind Harry, but when he went, the Professor stopped him. He saw a dementor. I kind of wished I had gone, because it seemed fun, though it would be dangerous for me. My worst fear is my parents. I didn’t want people putting two and two together. 

As I was leaving, Hermione walked beside me, and began talking about something her parents had said. I wasn’t fully listening, but I got the feeling she was only walking with me because she wants to know. I wish I could tell her. I do. But if I do, I risk my whole life. These people have the power to kill me. And legally I can’t use magic to fight back. I can’t use it outside school. If I could, I would freely tell the school all about it. Maybe they would be able to help me.

The risk isn’t worth it.

The next class we had was potions. I wasn’t listening. I was feeling really faint, and there was a constant ringing in my ears, but I looked as though I was paying attention, so the teacher wouldn’t have any reason to call upon me. I began to hit my ears with my palm in an attempt to quite the ringing, but I only got dizzier. 

I raised my hand and asked to be excused to the bathroom.

Exiting the classroom, the ringing got worse, and my legs began to go numb. I couldn’t hold myself up anymore and collapsed onto the floor. Darkness consumed me, and I felt nothing.

Was I dying?

~~

I woke up in a classroom. I looked around, slowly, looking for anything familiar.

I saw the closet that the bogart had been kept in, and almost immediately knew where I was. Lupin’s classroom.

He walked out of his office, eyebrows furrowed, and a concerned look etched across his face. He was holding something, and when he realised, I was awake, began towards me.

“Slowly, you’ve been out for a while” He stated, holding out a chocolate bar. “Eat this, it’ll help”

“Oh, umm, I can’t eat that.” I responded, stuttering slightly, trying to come up with an excuse for my lack of eating. “I’m - uhm - lactose intolerant. Really seriously, I might throw up.”

“Alessia. Do you know what happened?”

“No” I cast my sight downwards, ashamedly. I wasn’t even here two days, and I’m already gathering too much attention. I need to get out of here.

“You passed out. Now either you eat this, or I go to Dumbledore, and explain that I have a student in my classroom who passed out in the corridor, and can’t eat the chocolate, because she’s ‘lactose intolerant’” His demeanour switched between threatening and comforting. Like he was trying to threaten me but felt uncomfortable doing so.

“Fine” I unwrapped the chocolate and began to eat the chocolate.

“When was the last time you ate Alessia?” His whole face showed a mixture of pity and concern. I just need to get out of here.

“This morning, with everyone else.” I lied, and he raised his eyebrows.

“Really? I don’t remember seeing you. But I do remember someone sat outside my classroom for twenty minutes.”

“Fine. It was last night.” I lied again, hoping he will give in and take my answer.

“I mean a proper meal, not just a single piece of fruit.”

“Four days ago,” I whispered, not wanting him to hear the crack in my voice. I looked away from his face, not wanting to see the disappointment. I stood up, and changed my tone of voice, trying to exude confidence, even though I had none. “But now I’ve had chocolate, and I feel so much better, so I really must go” I turned to leave, but he gripped my wrist. I had to bite my lip to prevent a hiss from escaping.

“You need to eat tonight, or I have to report this to Dumbledore, and I think we both know, that I know that, that won’t help.” He sighs, and I nodded, before exiting the classroom.

I’m so stupid. 

How could I get caught?

More importantly, how long was I out?

I check the time and see that I missed the rest of potions class, and half of care of magical creatures.

I made my way to the class, and saw everyone gathering around Draco, who was lying on the floor, cradling his arm. It hardly looked injured, but he was crying like he had been stomped on by a giant.

“Hey Alessia, where have you been?” Hermione asks.

“Long story. What happened to Draco?” I responded, wanting to dodge her question completely.

“He acted like a dick, and the bird got it’s revenge” Ron added. My eyebrows furrowed, and he explained further about Harry riding the hippogriff, and Draco getting jealous.

We got dismissed early, and after that, the day seemed to drag on, but it felt like dinner was approaching too fast. I didn’t want to eat. I didn’t want the punishment. 

My mother used to give me a sandwich and an apple once every week, and if I ate anything else, I would be punished. I’ve got the scars to show that punishments were worse than going hungry. Plus, after a while, you get used to the hunger. The craving for something, anything. I’ve always worn loose clothes, because I wanted them to last. My mother refused to buy me anything for ‘freak school’, so when I bought my uniform, I bought it to last. The only upside, no one noticed the weight I was shedding, only eating once a week. 

I could eat more often, but if I put on weight, my mother would know. I’d have to lose it again or suffer.

Suffering was much worse than starving.

Much. Worse.

Dinner finally came around, and I sat in my usual spot with Hermione, Ron and Harry. But today, everyone was talking to me, rather than me drowning it out.

It was a little while into dinner, and I had yet to eat anything, and I thought I might get away with it, as Lupin was in a discussion with Madame Pomfrey. However, she began taking to Hagrid, and Lupin’s eyes snapped to mine, and he mouther the word ‘eat’ to me. I picked up the nearest thing to me, which happened to be a pasta bowl.

So many calories.

It is going to be hard to get rid of them.

So, I put it down, and grabbed the salad. I put a small pile on the centre of my plate and stabbed a piece of lettuce with my fork. Lifting it to my mouth, I felt the backs of my eyes sting, a feeling I was familiar with. Crying.

Nevertheless, I put it in, trying to stop the tears from falling as I chewed. I finished the things on my plate, as everyone else was leaving. I got up with the group and headed towards the dorms. The food I just ate feels like rocks in my stomach, and I need to find a way of getting rid of it.

Somehow.


	4. Four

FOUR:  
I couldn’t do it in the house bathrooms. It’d be too noisy, and if anyone found out I’d be screwed. There’s a bathroom on the third floor, but I’d risk seeing moaning myrtle, and the other is down by the great hall. I’ll have to go there.

I quietly made my way to the bathroom by the Great Hall, trying to make as little noise as possible, scared of getting caught. But I needed to get rid of the food that was sitting in my stomach. I was in my pyjamas. A loose hoodie, and leggings. When I got to the toilets, I looked in the mirror. My eyes were sunken in, with dark bags sitting below them. My cheekbones stuck out unattractively, and my Brown hair looked dead against my head. I tied it up in a messy bun, so that it wouldn’t get anything in it, and made my way into a cubicle.

My hands were shaking as I raised two fingers to my mouth. I felt everything from my stomach release into the bowl, with disgusting splatters, and felt ashamed. I had to do it though. I can’t risk my mother finding out. If I just keep reminding myself that, then maybe the shame will fade. Hopefully.

I flushed and exited the cubicle. Washing my hands, glanced to the mirror again. There were tear streaks going down my face. I looked away, as I fell if I’d looked any longer, I would never be able to stop crying. I suddenly felt hot and had to take off my hoodie. I was then stood there in a tight long-sleeved top. I could see the outline of every one of my ribs, reminding me of my unattractiveness, and my collarbones stuck out. I curled into a ball, and sat on the floor, against the wall. I don’t know how long I was in there, but I soon heard voices.

“Miss Granger, what are you doing out of your dormitories?” I heard a male voice ask, it was familiar, but I couldn’t pin whose it was.

“It’s Alessia sir. She wasn’t in our room; I need to find her.”

“Okay but return to your dorms as soon as you do. It’s not safe to wander the castle at night.”

I barely had time to register what was happening, before the door was ripped open, and Hermione gasped. She ran over to me, engulfing me in a hug.

“Alessia! What happened to you? You’re so skinny!” She kept muttering, but I drowned it out.

“I had to.”

“No, you don’t. You are safe here. You can eat what you want. Who is telling you that you can’t?” She looked as though she was about to burst into tears. I caused this. I’m causing another people pain. I looked down at the floor as I whispered the next two words.

“My parents.”

I slipped my hoodie back on whist she tried to register what I’d just said.

“Let’s just get back to the dorms, H.” I said, and made my way towards the door, I opened it and watched as she followed. Her face showed so many questions she wanted to ask me, but she didn’t utter a word. Her eyes remained glossed over, and she was trying to hold in her tears.

“Ah, Miss Granger, you found her!” I heard the male voice again and turned to see professor Lupin.

“Sh-She- “Hermione started, but was cut off by Lupin.

“Are you crying miss Granger?”

She began stuttering again, but I couldn’t risk her telling him, so I decided to cut in.

“She stubbed her toe on one of the sinks.” It was a shitty excuse, but I couldn’t think of a better one on the spot. He looked unconvinced, to say the least. He opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. “Goodnight Professor!”

I dragged Hermione away with me, and a tear escaped her eye. We walked in silence, and when we got to the dorm, I got straight into bed, ignoring the pleas from her, asking me to tell her why.

I’m sorry Hermione.

~~

The next few days were similar. I would eat at dinner, and then head to the toilets by the hall. I barely spoke to Hermione, though she tried really hard to talk to me. It made me feel like crap. It really did, but she was too close to find out my secret, and no one can.

Today was Friday, so we had Defence against the Dark Arts class. Oh joy…

I had also been attempting to avoid professor Lupin this week. I passed out in the corridor, and he found me. He then saw me having just thrown up and looked like he could tell. He knew too much, and I don’t think I can continue this anymore. Especially since I now have his class.

I walked in amongst the other students, and tried as hard as I could to blend in. I was having a conversation with Dean Thomas about Hogsmeade. He gets to go there this weekend. My parents didn’t sign the permission slip. When I asked, I got beaten. It’s fine though. I didn’t have any money to spend anyway. I was responding though. Trying to mirror his levels of excitement. He was telling me about some joke shop, and how he went there with his parents one year. I wish my parents were nice enough to take me places, but the furthest I went as a child was our local library. I’d read books, and then go home, where my parents would yell at me for not coming straight home. But while I was at the library, I went to so many different places, so many worlds, and had so many friends. It was the complete opposite of my real life. I had no friends. No freedom. No-one to care about me.

The lesson began, and we were learning about pixies. I wasn’t paying complete attention though. I was lost in my thoughts. I knocked something off of my desk and bent down to retrieve it. The stretching of my arm caused immense pain to ripple through the cuts I’d caused the previous night. I could feel the wounds opening and spent the rest of the lesson with one hand on my lap, whilst I wrote with the other, praying that it didn’t bleed too much.


	5. Five

FIVE:  
Lupin P.O.V

It was nearing the full moon.

One thing many people didn’t know about me, is that I’m a werewolf. I was bitten at a young age. Growing up I thought I was a monster. If it weren’t for James, Sirius and Peter I might have ended it then. I almost did. Ever since that night, I vowed to never ignore anyone I believed to be going through it.

You see, as the full moon approaches, some of my senses get stronger. Hearing, smell and sight. It makes me more able to pick up on how people feel. I can sense their emotions.

There is one student, in my class, that since saw her, I knew something was off. On the train, she was isolated. She wasn’t paying attention, and when she went to leave, she was about to cry.

I thought at first, maybe she was just homesick. Didn’t like being away from her parents. But then that changed. It was dinner on the first night. She sat quietly, no one around her noticed her not eating. She must’ve sensed something, as she soon put a single piece of fruit in her mouth. Then she left the hall. I didn’t go after her, figured maybe she wasn’t feeling well. So, I left it.

The next morning, I left the hall early during breakfast. The sounds of the students were getting too loud for me to stay. I was getting a headache.

She wasn’t in there though.

When I got to my classroom, she was sat outside, reading from a textbook, that looked to be in its fifth or sixth generation, and didn’t realise me entering my classroom. In my lesson, we were doing bogarts, and had to put my focus on Mr Potter. She seemed relieved, when I had to stop the lesson. Like she didn’t want to face the boggart. But I brushed it off.

It was around half an hour later, I heard someone in the corridor outside. Everyone was supposed to be in lesson, so I decided to investigate. She was lying on the floor. I picked up her limp body and placed her in my classroom. She was much lighter than someone of her age should be. I went into my office, in search of some chocolate to give her. It always helps after a student has passed out. I went back into the classroom, and she was awake. She was frightened, I could tell. 

She refused to eat the chocolate, so I had to say some things that I wish I didn’t. I wasn’t comfortable making threats, and I knew it wouldn’t help her. But I did it.

She left the classroom after that.

I made her eat something at dinner, and then she left.

Later that night, I was returning to my office, when I saw Hermione Granger going to the bathrooms by the grand hall. Looking for Alessia. I let her go into the bathrooms rather than sending her back, because I was worried about Alessia. I was asking Madame Pomfrey about her during dinner, and she told me how her grades dropped dramatically last year, and she hasn’t been the same since last Christmas.

When they left the bathroom, I could smell the bitter scent of vomit radiating off of her. I knew what she had done, and I think Hermione did too, as she looked as though she was about to burst into tears at any given moment.

As I went to ask what happened, she made an excuse for Hermione’s tears and walked away.

Since that night, I’d only seen her during dinner, and she seemed to be eating often, so I stopped worrying as much.

It’ Friday today, so we have a lesson. I was teaching her class about pixies and how to defend yourself against them, because as small as they are, they’re dangerous little fuckers. She wasn’t paying attention, that I could tell. It was as if she was in some kind of trance. She snapped out of it though, as she knocked some parchment off of her desk. She leant down to grab it, and as her left had stretched, she looked pained, and a scent took over my senses. Blood. It was overwhelming. She spent the remaining half of the lesson with one hand on her lap, as she continued to write with the other.

As I dismissed the class, I called out, “Miss Clarke, please can you stay behind for a quick discussion.”

To say she looked terrified would be an understatement, yet she stayed behind anyway.

She sat in a chair in front on my desk, and as I spoke, refused to make eye contact.

“Alessia, someone in your dormitory has expressed concern.” Her eyes widened, and for a second, I swore she was angry, though it was shortly covered up by fear. “Miss Clark, may you please show me your wrist?”

“Sir I really must be getting to- “She started, as she went to grab her books. 

“Alessia. Your wrist.”

Reluctantly, she showed me her left wrist, which was still bleeding, and tears welled up in her eyes.

“Why, Alessia? Why?”

“I deserve it.” This time it was my face showing anger. Not at her, but at whoever had put that idea into her head in the first place. It was wrong. No one deserves pain.

“No one deserves this. Who told you that you do?”

She panicked and grabbed her books. She went to leave, and the last thing she said to me was “I did professor.”


	6. Six

SIX:  
Alessia POV

I can’t breathe.

He knows. How could I show him? Why the hell did I do that? I’m so fucking stupid.

I went to my next lesson, my heart racing. I can’t cry. No one else can find out. I need to be more careful. Who expressed concern? Hermione? She knew, but not about my arms. I mean, how could she know?

I entered the charms classroom and explained to the teacher that I was talking to Lupin. He didn’t require any more explanation and told me just to take a seat. I was next to Dean again, and he was explaining the things that I had missed to me. 

Everything was going smoothly until we were told to open our textbooks. I raised my hand and tried to think of a way of explaining.

“Miss Clarke, how can I help?”

“I, umm, don’t have the textbook.” I mentally cursed myself for stuttering.

“Don’t have tone, or forgot to bring it?”

“I don’t have one.”

He told everyone what work to do, and momentarily left the classroom. He entered again with Professor Lupin and asked me to follow them.

“Alessia Clarke? Why don’t you have the books that are required, you were given a list weren’t you?” Lupin enquired. I could tell he knew I was uncomfortable discussing it but asked anyway. Professor Flitwick excused himself to go back in, and I took a deep breath.

“I couldn’t afford it, my summer job didn’t pay much” I explained, and he looked confused.

“And what about your parents?”

“They refused to buy resources for- “I didn’t want to continue, but I’d put myself in a situation that I wasn’t sure if I couldn’t get out of.

“For what?”

“Freak school” I whispered, my voice shaking, and a single tear leaking down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away, and cursed at myself again, for showing this much weakness.

“Miss Clarke, Are your parents wizards?” 

I shook my head. My heart sunk as I imagined how much better my life might be if they were. Or if I had parents like Hermione, who accepted it. Instead I was the freak. The child who deserves to die.

“Then they don’t understand how special you are. This isn’t a school for freaks. It’s a school for people who are lucky enough to be gifted.” He explained and handed me a textbook. “When you’re ready, go inside. Keep this. My door is always open if you need to talk.”

“Thank you” I whispered. 

I wiped my eyes and calmed my breathing as he returned to his classroom. I then walked back inside and got on with the work we had been doing. Learning about some spell. I wasn’t even sure what the spell did. I finished the lesson on a slightly higher note. 

We had some time to ourselves before dinner, and I returned to the common room. I was sat doing my homework, when Hermione entered. We started talking about the homework we got from charms, and it begun to feel like nothing had happened between us. Like we were completely fine. We then made our way to dinner.

I was sat in the Great Hall, discussing Ron’s holiday to Egypt, and I had yet to eat. I looked over the table for the thing with the least calories in it.

I was still terrified at the idea of eating. The action took so much willpower, and I avoided it at all costs. But I need to be careful. Lupin knows about my wrists. Hermione knows about my waist. I can’t risk anyone else finding anything out. So, I grabbed the thing with the least calories in it. Salad. Again.

I had eaten salad so many times this week, it was beginning to taste like soggy cardboard, but it would stop me gaining too much weight.

Soon enough, we were all walking back to the common room, and I was yet again, isolated from the conversations going on around me. So, I slipped out. No one noticed me leaving, so I went to the bathrooms again. 

When I got there, I looked into the mirrors again. My green eyes looked dead, and for a second, I tried to remember ever seeing any life in them, but I wasn’t successful. I was as dead emotionally, as I wished to be physically. Even my hair mirrored it. There was nothing on my form to suggest I wished to live any longer.

I went into a cubicle next, and did what I usually do, though today, it was as though something was mentally trying to stop me. But I did it anyway. I then exited the bathrooms quietly, trying not to disturb either teachers, or paintings. I had just left the bathrooms, when I heard a voice. 

“Miss Clarke. Are you aware you do actually have a bathroom in your dormitory?” Professor Lupin called.

“Umm, well, yes” I finally responded.

“I think we might need to have a conversation, Alessia”

“What about professor?”

“You have vomit on the side of your hoodie.” His statement was short, concise and to the point. But mainly it made my heart stop beating properly. I followed him to his office and took a seat on one of his chairs.

He looked as if he was going to start talking but cut himself off. He did this a few times, before finally saying something.

“Miss Clarke, do you often make yourself throw up?”

“I didn’t sir. I was feeling nauseous, and didn’t want to wake up the other girls, so I came to these bathrooms, where I was sick.”

He raised his eyebrows at my response and let out a sigh. “Alessia, you go to those bathrooms every night. If you’re vomiting that often, I have to take you to see the nurse.” He clasped his hands together, and leaned forwards slightly, before continuing, “Or you can just tell me the truth.”

“I did tell you the truth sir. I really don’t appreciate the accusations-” I started, but cut myself off from continuing, as his face showed that it wasn’t going to work, but I wasn’t going to crack again. I have already shared too much information about my life, and don’t think revealing any more would benefit me in any way. He ran a hand through his messy hair and looked exhausted.

“You can tell me now, Alessia, or when you’re more comfortable, but the sooner the better. Especially in this situation”

I turned to leave, and he looked like he was going to pass out, so I muttered a quick goodnight, before heading back to the dormitories. It wasn’t too late, so everyone was still awake, and buzzing about the school trip tomorrow. The one I wasn’t going on. I grabbed my wash bag, before heading into the showers. I ran the water hot, so it burned more every second I was in there. The pain refreshed me, and I reminded myself over and over, that deserved it. No matter what anyone else said. I ran the shower directly over the wounds on my arm, and the pain shot through it. I wasn’t in there long, however, before I grabbed a different hoodie, and climbed into bed.


	7. Seven

SEVEN:  
The next day, everyone was at Hogsmeade, and I was in the library, catching up on some homework I had missed in potions class, and I was approached by one of the younger years.

“Are you Alessia Clarke?” He asked, in a high-pitched voice, and the look on his face told me that he was terrified.

“Yes?” 

“Dumbledore asked me to find you, he needs you in his office.”

My pulse picked up dramatically. Had Lupin told him like he had threatened to? I had eaten. I had done what he told me to. I grabbed all my books, and made my way to his office, terrified of what was to come.

I reached the entrance, but didn’t know the password, so I tried to look around for someone to ask. I then heard the faint rumble of rocks moving, and a staircase opened. Dumbledore stood at the entrance, his arm motioning for me to enter. So, I did. My heart was in my throat, and I could feel my palms getting sweaty.

“Miss Clarke, correct?” He starts, and I nod. “We have received notice from your parents that they require your presence at home for a few days.” The colour drained from my face as he continued, “If you would like to collect the things you will require, your travel will be here soon.”

I nodded yet again, as I was worried if I said anything, I might begin to cry. I made my way to the dorms, and packed my bag, grabbing the things that I knew I would need.

I made my way to the entrance and saw one of the carriages we had originally rode from the station waiting for me. I climbed on, and that’s when the first tear escaped. It was a long journey to the station, and I must’ve fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes, we were there. I then boarded the train. 

The compartment I had sat in smelled of dust and liquorice. I was glancing out of the window, when I felt my eyes drooping yet again. I soon fell asleep but wished I hadn’t.

“Why are you downstairs, bitch?” He sneered at me, and my blood ran cold.

“I needed a drink” I responded quietly. I knew responding at all was not a smart idea, but I took a chance that he might show me some mercy. But it was no use. He began to approach me, slowly, but sinisterly. 

“A drink? You had one this morning. What the fuck makes you think you deserve another one? You entitled bitch!” He grabbed me by the bun on my head and threw me harshly against the floor. My head hit the floor, hard. It made my vision go blurry. The only shape I could make out was the large blur of my father approaching me. I tried to use my arms to get away, but it was no use. The heel of his boot contacted my frail body, and the pain became too much for my 9-year-old figure to handle. I succumbed to the darkness and prayed that I’d never have to wake up again.

I did though. I was on the kitchen floor, my head pounding. It felt like I had been hacked at multiple times with a meat cleaver. Even breathing was painful. I made my way upstairs and fell asleep again.

I shot up from my seat. But soon realised where I was and sat back down onto my chair. The nightmare I’d had was a memory. The first time I’d ever been physically abused by my father, rather than the usual mental abuse. This was worse. Much worse. And to my dismay, it never stopped.

It just got even worse. Soon the beatings became once a month. Then once a week, then once a day, then whenever my father felt like I was disturbing his existence. That’s all I was. A disturbance.

The train pulled into the station, and I grabbed my small backpack from the seat opposite, before making my way onto the platform. I then went through the wall onto platform nine, where I saw my father waiting, a scowl on his face. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and squeezed. To anyone walking past, it would seem like an action of endearment, but it was a way of causing me pain, and masking it.

He threw me into the backseat of the car, and started the engine, before recklessly driving to the house. When we arrived, I saw my mother sitting on the sofa, a beer in one hand, staring at the tv. When she heard the door, however, she turned to look at me, and continued to stare until the words I was truly hoping she wouldn’t say slipped out of her mouth.

“You’ve gained weight.”

My entire body shut down, it froze as she stood up and approached me, examining me further. “You’ve eaten more than you’re supposed to, haven’t you?”

“N-N-No.” I couldn’t get anything else out, as I stared down the devils mistress. Her hand reached up and slapped me, so hard that my face ended up facing a different direction.

“Don’t lie to me you filthy skank.” Her voice was slurred, and I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t her saying these things, that it was just the alcohol. But I didn’t believe it. I knew it was her. And I knew that she meant every word.

I did something stupid, next.

I ran.

Straight upstairs to my room and closed the door.

Something in my brain was telling me that they wouldn’t follow me, but it was lying. I could hear my father’s footsteps following from the second I began to move. 

“You’d better open this fucking door right now, or I will break it down myself. And trust me, if I have to do that. This is going to get a whole lot worse for you.”

I knew that I should’ve listened, but his tone of voice made my body freeze. And I can assure you, every word he said was true. It got a whole lot worse.


	8. Eight

EIGHT:  
Lupin’s POV

I was getting concerned about Alessia Clarke. She’s been making herself throw up. Not just that either, she cuts too. I’ve been there before. The feeling like you’re so empty, that you cause yourself pain just to feel. It’s addicting and can’t imagine what would cause a girl as young as her to suffer this much. I feel the need to help her.

I swore to myself that I would help anyone that looks like they need it. And I am determined to stick to that.

Everyone was at Hogsmeade today, except Harry. We were talking for a while about why I stopped him from facing the boggart, and each time he called me professor it stabbed me in the heart once more. If things had worked out differently it would be ‘uncle moony’, and James and Lilly would still be here. Peter would still be alive, and Sirius wouldn’t be locked up in Azkaban.

We were discussing the trouble me, James, Peter and Sirius used to get up to, when I saw Alessia rushing out of the common room with a backpack. She was crying.

“Harry, can I ask you a question?” I asked, turning my attention to the scraggy haired boy next to me.

“Sure, but I’m pretty sure you just did.”

“What do you know about Miss Clarke?”

I felt nosy asking Harry about her, but she needs help, and won’t accept it. He thought for a minute, before responding.

“I don’t really know that much about her. I haven’t spoken to her much. She’s more Hermione’s friend more than mine or Ron’s.”

I nodded, getting lost into my thoughts, and barely realised when Harry bid me his goodbyes and walked towards Gryffindor common room once more. I headed back to my office, deciding that I should probably start planning my future lessons. But I couldn’t focus. I don’t know if it was the moon or knowing one of my students is suffering so much, but I began to feel restless, and decided to take a walk around the grounds.

The students began to arrive back at Hogwarts as I returned to my office. I took my potion and made my way towards the whomping willow. I got to the shack long before the moon rose and began to think about the times I had here with my friends. I remember the first time I came out here. I’d discovered the pathway that lead beneath the whomping willow and had stayed here during the night. I felt like a monster. That’s why I have the scars on my face. It was a particularly bad moon, and no one was around. I remember being so happy at the thought that I wouldn’t hurt anyone. But during the course of the night, I had bitten and scratched myself, and when I woke, I only remember the pain.

I went straight to Madame Pomfrey and ended up staying the next couple of days in the infirmary.

It was the worst moon ever, and I remember Lily sitting beside my bed the day after, talking to me about something that happened in potions class. She didn’t ask how it happened. That was one thing about Lily that everyone loved. She knew when you didn’t want to talk about something and never tried to force it out of you.

I could feel my eyes beginning to sting at the memories of my friends and sat at the piano. I’d played when I was younger. I’d sit at this piano and wait for the pain to set in. It probably didn’t help the reputation of this building to be honest. The dismal sounds of piano mixed with the cries of pain emitting from my mouth is probably one of the main reasons people thought it’s haunted.

I began to play the familiar melancholy tune that was my favourite as a child. The feeling of my fingers gliding across the keys made it feel like I was returning to those teenage years. But I didn’t need to return to those early years to feel as though I was alone. I’m alone now.

Everyone I had is gone now.

Their names circled my mind as the pain started.

Lily. James. Sirius. Peter.

I couldn’t hold in my cries of pain. It felt as though my bones were being torn from my body, one by one.

Lily. James. Sirius. Peter.

My nails sprouted long claws, and my face contorted. Revealing a monster.

Lily. James. Sirius. Peter.

I no longer had control. My claws dug into my flesh. My teeth bit into anything they could get access to. 

Lily. James. Sirius. Peter.

Their names were the last thoughts in my mind, before my other form took over.

~~

The next morning, I woke in the shack. I couldn’t remember anything last night past my transformation. This was a normal occurrence though. I never could remember anything.

I made my way back to the castle, wincing with every step I took. There were scratches on my arms, but they weren’t too deep. Poppy could fix them. I could be back to normal by tomorrow. Today was Sunday anyway, so I had time to rest.

Once I got to the hospital wing, Poppy walked over to me immediately, directing me to a bed, and tending to the scratches.

“Remus, if it’s getting bad again-” She started, and I knew where it was going.

“It’s not. I just hadn’t been back there in a while. It just brought back memories.”

“As long as you’re sure. I know how hard it has been for you since-”

“Please can we not talk about them.” I was pleading by this point and hated how weak it made me feel, it reminded me of when people originally found out about Lily and James. No one was normal around me after it. They treated me like a porcelain doll. She sighed but didn’t continue on any further. 

I put my head in my hands and let out an exhale that was long overdue. I felt the weight lift off my shoulders. Poppy put some essence of dittany on my wounds, and I was free to go. I made my way back to my classroom and was surprised to see Alessia stood outside. She had dried tear stains across her cheeks, and I could see new tears forming in her eyes as I directed her inside.


	9. Nine

NINE:  
Alessia POV

“I can’t go back there. It’s not safe they’ll kill me!” I was pacing around professor Lupin’s classroom. “I didn’t know who else to go to.”

Twenty-Four hours earlier

I had gotten out of the house as soon as I could, running down the street like my life depended on it. Which technically it did.

My back was burning from the recent beating. I didn’t know where I was going, or how to get back to Hogwarts, but I kept running. I had a small amount of money in my bag from a small stash in my room. I had kept it in case of emergencies such as this. I had enough to get on a bus to London. I could get to the station somehow. I don’t know how the trains would work from there, or if there was one. But it’s a start.

I caught the bus, ignoring the strange looks I was getting from passers-by. My back felt like it was on fire, and I couldn’t sit properly on the chairs. I slouched against the windows, though every single part of my body was protesting, and fell asleep.

I was woken an hour later by an elderly woman. She was letting me know we had reached the last stop for the bus, and I climbed off. I only had £4.26 left, and I needed to get to Kings Cross Station. It would cost more to get on the underground. So, I started walking. I hadn’t properly been to London before, only the station, so I didn’t know where I was going. I couldn’t exactly go back home now though. It was too dangerous. They were sick in the head, they needed help.

I eventually came across a small street store, selling maps for a pound, so I bought one, and I’ve gotta say, I’m surprised I was going in the right direction. I was nearly there, so I knew I would get there before dark. It was fairly early, around 10am. So, I was hopeful that I would miss morning rush, but to no avail. There were hundreds of people on the platform, but this could actually be used to my advantage, I could slip through to the platform without detection. 

When I got to the platform, there was a train, and to say I was shocked is an understatement. I got on, and as soon as the clock struck 11, it began to move. I soon fell asleep.

“Maybe you should’ve listened to your father bitch. It would save all of us the trouble.” Then she laughed, not the kind of laugh where something is actually funny though, the cynical kind, that resonates through your bones, and makes your hair stand on end, “Or perhaps I should’ve when he told me to abort you.”

I felt tears stream down my cheeks and waited for my ‘punishment’. I didn’t know what it was. Usually my father would just hit me, but this time, he went upstairs to get something to ‘aid him’. I had no energy left to struggle, and no reason to even try. My body was clad in a tank top and leggings, and I was lying on the floor of the living room. 

He eventually came down the stairs, holding a belt. I suddenly began to struggle, and he stomped onto the bottom of my spine, holding me in place.

“You’d better listen to me, bitch! If you scream, I smash your head so hard into the floor that I’m cleaning up your brains for a week, -” I nodded vigorously, and he continued, “-Sit up, and if you try to run…” He imitated the sound of a neck snapping, and I sat up straighter than a pin.

One whip.  
Two whips.  
Three whips.

I got one for every day I was at Hogwarts, and three extras if I cried, or made sound.

Soon my skin was littered with marks.

I woke up as the train jolted to a stop, and grabbed my backpack, pulling my hoodie, which had risen up, down to cover each and every one of the marks. My eyes stung, and the tears began to flow. I walked slowly back to the main entrance, as there were no carriages, and my arms ached with the weight of my bag. It couldn’t go on my back the pain was too great. I could see other students walking along the path. They must be returning from Hogsmeade.  
I made my way inside the castle and went straight to Professor Lupin’s classroom. He said his door was always open, and I need to talk to someone right now. I was outside when he arrived, and he looked exhausted.

Still, he directed me inside his classroom, and I went to take a seat, but my back screamed out in pain, so I decided to stay stood up.

“Did you need to talk about something, Miss Clarke?” His voice broke through the silence, and I placed my bag on the floor, watching as my hoodies began to spill out, but ultimately deciding to ignore it.

“I can’t go back there. It’s not safe they’ll kill me!” I was pacing around professor Lupin’s classroom. “I didn’t know who else to go to.”

“Who, Alessia? Who will kill you?” His face showed so many emotions, but I couldn’t decide which one was more prominent.

“My parents. They told Dumbledore they needed me to go home. But they didn’t they just wanted to-” I stopped myself and reached for the bottom of my hoodie. I was still wearing the blood-soaked tank top. I pulled it over my head, and watched his eyes widen in shock. “They did this. All of it. Please, I can’t go back.”

I was sobbing. My back stung, but I collapsed to the floor, and soon felt an arm wrap around my shoulder. 

“Let’s get you to Madame Pomfrey, she’ll be able to help with the bleeding, and then we’ll go talk to Dumbledore.” Lupin suggests, helping me up. I nod, and grab my bag, trailing after him towards the infirmary.


	10. Ten

TEN:  
“Remus, is everything okay? Were there complications with the medicine?” Madame Pomfrey asked as Professor Lupin walked through the door, and he promptly shook his head before I limped in, “Oh my god! Get her to a bed, I’ll get something to help.”

I made my way to a bed in the corner and sat on the edge. I was looking at the floor and a tear escaped my eye, splashing onto my hand. Soon, a river flowed. They didn’t stop, even as Madame Pomfrey put some potion into the marks, earning a small hissing noise from me.

“Alessia, are you okay to talk to Dumbledore about it?” Professor Lupin’s voice broke the silence. “Or would you prefer Professor McGonagall?”

“Could I talk to McGonagall first?” My voice was barely a whisper, and he nodded, before standing and exiting the room. I laid down on the bed, at the request of Madame Pomfrey and stared at the ceiling.

McGonagall entered the room after about 15 minutes and made her way over to the bed I was on. Her eyes were full of sympathy and she took a chair and placed it next to my bed. Madame Pomfrey left the room, as there were currently no other students to tend to.

“Miss Clarke, I was told you don’t think it is safe to return to your current residence.” She started, and I could sense the emotion in her voice. I shook my head in response, and she continued, “Are you comfortable telling me why not?”

I took a deep breath, and leaned forwards, before beginning to explain.

“Professor McGonagall, my family think I’m a freak. They refuse to pay for any of my books, uniform or anything else I require whilst I’m here. But that’s not just it. They uhm, well, they hit me. Or kick me.” I wasn’t sure if I should stop there, or keep going, but the look on McGonagall’s face told me I didn’t need to continue, but I did it anyway. “They, uhm, contacted Dumbledore, telling him they needed me to go home right away for a couple of days. Said it was some family thing. When I got there, well they- Well, you can see what they did.”

I made a gesture to my back, where the potion had begun to close the wounds.

“They also starved me. My mother said if I gained any weight whilst I was here, there’d be hell to pay. So, I stopped eating.”

“Did anyone know until now?” The look on her face told me that she didn’t know what to say. She looked like I had just shown her a unicorn horn poking out of my ribs. Completely shell-shocked.

“Professor Lupin did. But only about the eating.”

She nodded, and we continued to discuss the matter at hand, until Hermione entered the room. She ran up to me, and practically pounced onto me.

“Oh my god Alessia!” She gripped me in a vice like hug, and only loosened her grip when I let out a small hiss. She sat with me all day, until Madame Pomfrey told me I could return to the dorms if I really wanted to. I was just leaving, when she turned to me.

“Miss Clarke, I just wanted to let you know that those marks are likely to leave a scar. There aren’t any potions we can use to get rid of them.”

“Thank you anyway, Madame Pomfrey.”

I made my way to the dormitories with Hermione. When I got there, I grabbed my bag and went to the bathrooms. There was dried blood on my back, and I needed a shower. 

I caught a glimpse of my back in the mirror when getting into the shower. The lines going across it stood out like a highlighter in a pack of biros. The blood had run down and was drying in irregular patterns across my back.

The water stung in each of my cuts, and for once, I didn’t try to remind myself I deserved it. I tried to convince myself I don’t.  
I climbed out of the shower, and put on another tank top, and a hoodie with some leggings. No one was in the dorms when I left, so I went down to the common room, where I saw Hermione, Harry and Ron talking about something. Ron was laughing, and Hermione rolled her eyes. I decided to join them, nervously fiddling with my nails. As soon as I sat down, Hermione wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and gave me a hug.

Ron and Harry looked at each other in confusion, and I explained the events of today. They then each joined in on the hug. I wasn’t used to this much affection being directed towards me, but I accepted it anyway.

We spent the rest of the afternoon chatting about Hogsmeade, and eventually decided to go down to dinner. I sat with the others and grabbed the pasta instead of the salad. I got a small amount, but it was still an improvement. This time last week, I wouldn’t have looked twice at the pasta, and just gone for the salad. I had a small smile of accomplishment on my face. It was going to take a while to recover from what I’d gone through, but I can make it happen.

Everyone’s mail began to be brought in, and I wasn’t expecting to get any, but a professional looking letter arrived in front of me. I didn’t want to open it in front of everyone, so I went to put beside my plate, but it was snatched from my hands before I could.


End file.
